


Suited and Tied

by nishizono



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Sex, Rimming, Sex Club, Spanking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishizono/pseuds/nishizono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There were a couple of sites in your browser history that we should probably talk about.” (Or: Harvey borrows Mike's laptop and finds some recent search history with a distinctly S&M flavor. When Harvey confronts Mike about his after-hours activities, Mike decides Harvey's mentoring should extend outside the office.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Gimme your laptop.”

Mike looked up from his deposition notes. “Huh? Why?”

Harvey made ‘gimme’ fingers. “Don’t argue. I’ve got a meeting in three minutes.”

“What happened to yours?” Mike sighed and disconnected his laptop from its docking station. He handed it to Harvey, who tucked it under his arm.

“Virus,” Harvey said, checking his watch. “Get those Hillman bankruptcy notes typed by noon, and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Mike gave his laptop a pointed look.

Harvey raised an eyebrow and grinned. “You’re the genius in this relationship. Figure it out.”

“Right,” Mike muttered, watching Harvey walk away. Then he sighed and picked up his phone. “Hey, Ben? It’s Mike Ross. You don’t have any extra laptops down there, do you?”

 

 

 

 

Two hours and some negotiating with the IT department later, Mike was putting the finishing touches on his notes. The loaner laptop was an ancient thing running Windows XP, but it got the job done. He emailed his notes to Harvey, then cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms over his head.

“I see you figured it out.”

He looked up to find Harvey hovering over him. Mike smirked and made ‘gimme’ fingers at his laptop.

Harvey handed the laptop back. “Did you finish the notes?”

He said it nicely enough, but there was something off about his expression. His eyes were narrowed, and he was watching Mike more closely than usual. Mike wondered what the meeting had been about.

Mike gave Harvey his most winning smile. “Yep! Just emailed ‘em. Hillman sure does like to talk about himself.”

Harvey nodded and checked his watch. “Get your coat and come with me. We’ll be gone a couple of hours.”

 _Fuck_. Mike’s stomach dropped, and he ran through a list of possible offenses. He couldn’t remember doing anything wrong, but who knew what might have come up?

“Today, junior.”

“Right, sorry.” Mike scrambled into his jacket and grabbed his phone, then trotted after Harvey. They were silent the whole way down to the lobby, and Mike’s heart sank deeper with every floor they passed.

 

 

 

 

Usually when Harvey offered to buy lunch, that meant hot dogs off a cart, but this time, they ended up at Jean-Georges. Mike had only been there twice: once for an ill-fated Valentine’s date, and once for a meeting with one of Harvey’s VIP clients. It was the kind of place that made his credit card scream, even with his six figure salary.

They were shown to a table near the back, in front of huge windows that overlooked the street. Sunbeams slanted across the white table linen and sparkled on the glasses, and Mike felt oddly exposed. The waiter brought them water and a wine menu, then disappeared, leaving Mike to fend for himself.

Mike pretended to scour the menu for a minute, then glanced at Harvey, who was scrolling through something on his Blackberry. Mike cleared his throat. “So uh...”

“Just a second,” Harvey said without looking up from his phone.

Mike swallowed and turned back to his menu. _Prixe fixe_. $100 for lunch, and he didn’t even get to choose what he’d be eating. Jesus.

“We need to have a conversation.”

Mike jerked his head up. Harvey had put his BlackBerry away and was now leaning back in his chair. He looked relaxed, but Mike knew better. This was one of Harvey’s ‘power poses’: feet on the floor, arm draped over the back of the chair, jacket casually unbuttoned. Mike had seen him use it during volatile meetings. He’d just sit there, calm and confident, and guide everyone else into settling down. The man could give Don Draper a run for his money.

Mike swallowed and put down his menu. “So,” he said again, “I’m guessing you’re pissed off at me.”

“Nope,” Harvey said, rubbing his thumb over the chair’s upholstery. He considered Mike for a moment, then leaned forward and folded his arms on the table. “Your laptop,” he said. “Is that your personal computer, or does it belong to the firm?”

“It’s mine.” Mike frowned. “Why?”

“There were a couple of sites in your browser history that we should probably talk about.”

Mike’s brow furrowed. He thought about the sites he’d visited over the last couple of days: Gmail, CNN, Reddit. The usual, except--

_Shit._

Mike’s cheeks flushed.

Harvey arched an eyebrow and sat back in his chair. “That’s what I thought. Start talking.”

“No. No, no, no. That-- you--” Mike jabbed a finger at Harvey. “Why were you going through my browser history?”

Harvey shrugged. “I found an article to show the client, then lost it. It was quicker to find it in browser history than search for it again.”

Mike scowled. Harvey was a lot of things, but he wasn’t usually a snoop. Still, Mike’s browser history was none of Harvey’s business, whether he’d come across it by accident or not.

“Look, I’m not trying to embarrass you, but if you’re--”

“Oh my god, can we not talk about this? It was a couple of stupid websites.” Mike flapped his hand toward the window. “It’s not like I’m out there--” He broke off and glared at Harvey. He was blushing so hard his ears burned.

Harvey raised an eyebrow and sipped his water. “Visiting S&M clubs?”

“Jesus, Harvey,” Mike hissed, glancing around the restaurant. “Are we seriously having this conversation _here_?”

Their waiter chose that moment to appear, and Mike flopped back in his chair-- he hadn’t even realized he was leaning forward. Harvey ordered for them, and Mike sat across from him and glared.

When the waiter had gone, Harvey shook his napkin out and said, “I don’t need to tell you what would happen if someone caught my associate doing rounds of the S&M club circuit.”

“Oh my god,” Mike groaned and buried his face in his hands. He wondered if he could behead himself with a butter knife. Harvey let him wallow in his misery for awhile until he finally muttered, “I was curious, okay?”

“Mumble mumble?”

Mike gritted his teeth and pulled his hands from his face. He scowled at Harvey, but Harvey just regarded him silently. That was Harvey’s deposition face: calm and open, no judgement.

“I said,” Mike snapped, “that I was curious.”

“Hm.” Harvey rested his chin in his hand. “No offense, but I was under the impression you knew your way around--”

“ _Stop it_.” Mike blushed even harder.

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Just hear me out. I’m not trying to be an asshole. All I’m saying is that a guy your age-- You’re not naive, so why all the research if you’re not planning to go?”

Mike licked his lips and considered telling Harvey to fuck off, but that would get him nowhere. Knowing his luck, Harvey would just leave him there, and then he’d be stuck with the bill _and_ the taxi fare back to the office.

Mike sighed and looked out the window. “I--” God, he couldn’t believe they were talking about this. “Look, I’m _not_ naive, okay? I’ve done the basics. Handcuffs and blindfolds. The kind of stuff you mess around with in college.”

“But you wanted to know what else is out there?”

“No. Well-- yeah. Kinda. I just--” Mike shifted uncomfortably. He wished the waiter would come back. Seconds passed, and when no one saved him from his mortification, he sighed. “It’s just-- all the stuff you see on websites is so--” He wrinkled his nose.

“Cheesy?”

Mike glanced at Harvey, then away again. “Yeah. I mean, some of it is decent, but the rest is so weird and fake. All that latex? It’s like a Manson video.”

“I thought you liked Manson.” Harvey was smirking.

Mike rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched.

“So you were trying to find something a little classier? Suit and tie? Little black dress?”

Mike huffed and picked at his napkin. It was taking all his willpower to not stand up and storm out, dragging his pride with him.

They were interrupted when the waiter came with their first course: seared foie gras with slices of mango. Mike resisted the urge to make a face.

Once the waiter had gone and they’d both eaten a few bites (of just the mango in Mike’s case), Harvey dabbed his lips with his napkin and said, as casually as if they were talking about baseball, “What you want is out there, but you’re not going to find it in the clubs you’ve been reading about.”

Mike paused with his fork lifted. He stared at Harvey for a second, and then said, “Okay.”

“There are websites, but I don’t suggest using them. I’d rather you not end up cut into little pieces.”

“Right. Thanks for that.” Mike put his fork down. Somehow, the foie gras had just become even less appetizing.

“There are also private clubs,” Harvey said slowly, like he did when he was feeling out a witness. If they’d been talking about something else, Mike would have yelled at Harvey for trying to lawyer him.

“Private clubs,” Mike replied. “Yeah, I ah-- I kinda figured those existed. I don’t know how to find them, though. I mean, that’s kinda the point, right?”

“Mm.” Harvey had stopped eating. He seemed to be watching Mike instead. He tapped his fingers against the side of his water glass, and Mike watched the condensation wet his fingertips. Eventually, Harvey said, “Do you ever worry that I’ll blackmail you?”

Mike frowned and jerked his gaze up to meet Harvey’s. The question was so out of left field that it took him a second to process it. They’d been through so much crap together and become such good friends that Mike hadn’t even considered the possibility. “What? No. Actually, I’m kinda insulted-- Wait, why? Are you planning to?”

“No. I just want to make sure we both understand that you never have to do something you don’t want to.”

“That hadn’t actually crossed my mind ever, but now you’re making me wonder.”

Harvey waved his hand. “Stop. I’m not implying anything. I just want to make sure we’re on equal footing here.” He pushed his plate aside and leaned forward to look Mike in the eye. “Listen to me, and I want you to answer me honestly. Is this really something you’re into? Would it bother you if I told you to stop thinking about it?”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“No, I’m asking if it would bother you.”

Mike furrowed his brow. “If you made me choose between this or my job, I’d choose the firm. I mean, working for you is already pretty close to torture.”

Harvey’s lips twitched. “But--?”

“God damn it.” Mike was blushing again. “I probably wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. But it’s not like it’s affecting me at work.”

Harvey shook his head. “I’m not saying it would. I just want to know how serious you are. Believe it or not, I don’t put my ass on the line for people’s whims.”

“What do you mean?”

Harvey sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m going to give you a chance to get what you want, but--” he held up a finger “--on the condition that it stays outside of work, and that you never speak a word of it to anyone.”

“What--?” Mike paused. He wasn’t sure what Harvey was offering, and he knew better than to try and guess.

“The private clubs,” Harvey explained quietly. “I can get you in.”

Mike blinked at him. He was about to accuse Harvey of fucking with him, but Harvey looked dead serious.

“Wait,” he stammered. “Wait, you mean, you--?”

“First rule: you don’t ask questions.” Harvey gave him a stern look. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you. I’m getting you in. End of story.”

Mike swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Fine.”

“This would be the part where you either storm out and report me for sexual harassment or say yes.”

“Yes,” Mike said hastily, before he could change his mind. His heart was pounding, and he’d suddenly lost his appetite, but he also felt oddly relieved. Like Harvey had just taken a burden off his shoulders, or at least helped him lift it. This wasn’t the first time.

“Your foie gras is getting cold.”

“I hate foie gras,” Mike replied, still dazed. “You know that.”

“Then let me have it,” Harvey said, reaching across the table. He switched his empty plate for Mike’s and started eating.

Mike watched him and wondered how the fuck Harvey could be so calm after the conversation they’d just had. But then, that was how they always did it: awkward conversations followed by falling back into routine. Like a safety net.

“You’re an asshole, by the way,” Mike said once he’d mostly regained his composure. “For even joking that I’d rat you out.”

Harvey glanced up at him. The corner of his lips twitched. “You know, technically we’re still in working hours.”

“Fine.” Mike smirked a little. “Then you’re an asshole, _Sir_.”

Harvey laughed and jabbed his fork at Mike’s water glass. “Drink.”

Mike drank.

  
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	2. Chapter 2

Three days passed. They didn’t talk about it.

They saw each other every day, but life carried on as usual. They took depositions and went to arraignments. Harvey made fun of Mike’s haircut, and Mike stole change out of Harvey’s desk. It was like nothing had changed. Except it had.

Mike was going crazy. He spent every day on edge, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Harvey about it. He wondered if Harvey had changed his mind. That would be disappointing, but at least Mike would _know_. He’d never been good at waiting.

Finally, on Friday afternoon, Harvey called Mike into his office and said, “Sit.”

Mike sat.

Harvey examined him in silence for a while, then leaned back in his chair and twirled a pen around his knuckles. “Why haven’t you talked to me?”

“I talk to you every day.”

“I’m serious, Mike.”

“You told me not to ask questions.”

“I meant about _me_.”

“It’s not like you specified.” Mike smirked. He couldn’t pass up a chance to try and annoy Harvey, even now.

Harvey frowned at him.

“Okay, fine.” Mike shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured you’d tell me when we were going to the club.”

“You were waiting for me?” Harvey’s eyes narrowed, and he tapped his pen against his mouth.

Mike watched the pen. It was easier than looking Harvey in the eye. “Am I supposed to ask you now?”

“We can go tonight,” Harvey said. “Unless you’ve got plans?”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat. He shook his head. “No, I uh-- I’ve kinda been keeping my schedule open, just in case.”

Harvey grinned at him, and Mike laughed.

“Shut up,” Mike said. “You’re such a dickhead.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight. Wear a suit. But not that one.”

 

 

The hour after Mike got home was agonizing. He tried to distract himself with a shower, but his mind was still racing, so he concentrated on choosing a suit instead. He wasn’t sure if the club had a dress code, but Harvey sure did. If he didn’t look his best, Harvey would send him back up to change. And honestly, Mike wasn’t sure he’d have the nerve to leave his apartment again.

Eventually, he pulled out the big guns: a charcoal grey suit that had cost more than his laptop. It was too dressy for the office, but he’d bought it because Harvey’s tailor had insisted he needed something for dinner parties. Mike had only worn it once, to the firm’s receptionist’s wedding. Tonight, he paired it with a white shirt and a slate blue tie, then tried to get his hair to do something normal. That was a lost cause, so he just sighed and stared at himself in the mirror.

He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there when his phone buzzed. He shook himself and checked the text message. It was from Harvey: ‘ _Downstairs_.’

“Fuck,” Mike muttered.

He wondered if he could pretend to have food poisoning.

Mike stalled for a while, checking and re-checking his hair. He was actually considering begging off when there was a knock at the door, and he rubbed his hands over his face. If he skipped this chance, he might never get another.

Harvey was leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a black, pinstriped suit and a black tie. Mike immediately felt underdressed, but Harvey gave him a once-over and said, “Good job, junior. I’m actually impressed.”

“Thanks.” Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think of something else to say.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. He flicked his gaze back and forth between Mike’s eyes and said, “Wanna do pizza instead? We could hit Delano’s.”

Mike shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Mike managed a smile. “Can we just go, please? Before I chicken out?”

Harvey laughed and pushed away from the doorframe. He straightened his cuffs and nodded toward the stairs. “After you, then.”

 

 

Mike would never have found the club without help.

The building was an unassuming, converted brownstone sandwiched between two art galleries. The bricks were covered in ivy, and the front door had frosted windows. It looked more like something from the Harvard campus than an S&M club. 

“This is it?” Mike asked dubiously. He wondered if Harvey was fucking with him.

Harvey stepped out of the car and buttoned his jacket. He looked amused. “What were you expecting? Dungeon gates?”

“Shut up.” Mike gave Harvey a lopsided smile and tried to look calm even though his heart was pounding. He wondered if Harvey would be embarrassed if he threw up in the gutter.

“Hey, you okay?” Harvey frowned and put his hand on Mike’s shoulder.

Mike nodded, but he could tell it wasn’t convincing.

“Bullshit,” Harvey said.

“Sorry.” Mike scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know what my problem is.”

“Don’t apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Mike let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m acting like a teenager about to touch boobs.”

“You had a panic attack over tits?”

“Fuck yes.” Mike gave Harvey a weak smile. “Tits are scary when you’re fourteen.”

Harvey chuckled and looked at Mike. His expression had softened, and he reached up to tousle Mike’s hair. “You’ll be okay, kiddo. Everybody gets the shit scared out of them once in awhile by things they’re not expecting. Just means you’re human.”

“Quit it,” Mike said, batting Harvey’s hand away.

Harvey smirked and pulled his hand back. “You know, it’s not too late for pizza.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m good now. I just needed to freak out a little. Stupid, huh?”

“Nope.” Harvey smiled and gestured for Mike to follow him. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”

 

 

The doorman didn’t ask for Harvey’s name; he just waved them inside.

Mike gaped.

“Not a word,” Harvey warned him.

The club wasn’t what Mike had imagined. He’d expected it to be classy, but in a velvet-and-candlelight way. Instead, he was looking at light wooden floors and sleek, modern lines. The crowd was impeccably dressed, and if Mike didn’t know any better, he could have mistaken the place for a corporate networking spot.

He was almost disappointed.

“Stick with me,” Harvey said, putting his hand on the small of Mike’s back. He guided Mike to the bar and leaned against it, then turned halfway so he could survey the room.

Mike envied Harvey. He could never look that smooth.

“You know,” Harvey said, “I’m surprised you’re not pissed at me for not giving you any idea what to expect.”

Mike shrugged. “Honestly, I’m still trying to get my head around you getting us in here. Besides, you like it when I figure things out on my own.”

“At work. You’ve never had a breakdown about work.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a breakdown.”

“Either way, this isn’t the same.”

“Are you apologizing?”

He meant it as a joke, but Harvey looked serious.

“Oh,” Mike said. He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I’d appreciate a little warning next time. This isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, but you probably could have saved me some stress by telling me.”

“Understood.” Harvey nodded and flagged down the bartender. He ordered their drinks-- whiskey for himself and a beer for Mike-- then turned and leaned back against the bar.

Mike tried to mirror him, but he felt too exposed, so he turned toward Harvey instead.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Harvey asked. “We can stay up here and talk, or we can head downstairs and watch. Your choice. And you can always change your mind.”

Mike swallowed. The lump in his throat was trying to make a reappearance. “What’s downstairs?”

“Private rooms and the public play area.”

The bartender came back with their drinks, and Harvey paid for them, which gave Mike a few minutes to think. He took his beer and downed a third of it, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

It wasn’t a big deal. He’d seen people have sex before. Trevor had practically made it a sport.

“Quit being so hard on yourself,” Harvey said, even though Mike hadn’t said anything. He grabbed Mike’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “Save that for work. This is supposed to be fun.”

Mike gave Harvey a bemused look. “Okay, invasion of the body snatchers.”

Harvey chuckled and leaned back with his elbows on the bar. The glass of whiskey dangled from his fingertips, and he let his jacket fall open in the front.

Mike wondered how many times he’d been there.

“Finish your beer,” Harvey said. “ _Slowly_. And then if you’re up for it, we’ll head downstairs.”

Mike nodded and sipped his beer. They didn’t talk after that; they just stood at the bar and watched. The crowd was mostly couples with some singles and threesomes mixed in. Mike tried to catch the details: the way certain people dropped their gaze whenever someone looked at them, or the way they moved when their partners touched their backs. It was subtle. Mike wouldn’t have noticed in a regular bar.

He sure as fuck noticed now, though.

“You can go mingle if you’re interested,” Harvey said.

Mike wanted to ask if that was what Harvey did when he came here, but he caught himself just in time. “Not tonight,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to get used to just being here.” He paused, then frowned at Harvey. “We _can_ come back, right?”

Harvey chuckled. “If you think you can handle it.”

“Of course I can handle it.” Mike huffed, and then gave Harvey a lopsided smile.

Harvey laughed and squeezed his shoulder. “Glad you’re feeling better,” he said. “Ready?”

Mike held his beer up to see how much was left, and then downed the rest of it in a couple of swallows. He put the empty bottle on the bar and nodded at Harvey.

Harvey gave him a once-over, like he was trying to decide whether Mike was telling the truth, then nodded and gestured toward the back of the room. “It’s this way.”

They weaved their way through the crowd together. Harvey kept his hand on Mike’s back to guide him, then ushered him down a flight of stairs. At the bottom was a long, wood-paneled hallway lined with doors. A dimly-lit room lay at the far end, and Mike started toward it.

“Mike, wait.” Harvey grabbed his elbow. “We should talk about some rules before you go in there.”

“Rules?” Mike’s stomach twisted. Damn it, he’d been doing so well at staying calm.

“Quit looking at me like I just signed your death warrant.”

“I’m not ready to die,” Mike quoted. “Not for you.”

“ _I’m as good a reason as any_.” Harvey smirked at him. “Broken Arrow. Great movie.”

“You need an anti-Travolta intervention.”

“And you need to listen,” Harvey said, squeezing Mike’s elbow. “We’re not the only ones in here who want to keep our after-school activities private. If you spot someone you recognize, you pretend not to see them unless they approach you. And you never mention it outside the club.”

Mike nodded.

“Good,” Harvey said. “Now, if someone propositions us, you can either turn them down yourself, or you can let me take care of it, but you have to be polite.”

Mike rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, newbie. This isn’t a huge community, and it doesn’t take long for word to travel.”

“Would you stop?” Mike wiped his hands on his trousers. “Fuck, you’re making me nervous again.”

“All right, come over here.” Harvey led him over to the wall so they weren’t blocking the stairs. After a pause, he asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

“Shouldn’t you swear me in first?”

“Don’t make me put you back on OSHA research.” Harvey poked him in the chest, then leaned against the wall. “Is being here with me what’s making you uncomfortable? I don’t mean at the club in general. I mean being here with _me_ , specifically.”

“Huh?” Mike was surprised by the question. “No, that’s--”

“Stop. Think about it first, _then_ answer.”

Mike was about to protest that he didn’t need to think about it, but the look on Harvey’s face stopped him. He looked away and tried to analyze the situation like an outsider. Harvey was his boss, but they were also friends, and their working relationship wasn’t exactly typical. They’d been through more together in a couple of years than Mike had gone through with anyone else, except maybe his grandma.

“You’re a prick for calling me out on this,” he said, still staring at the floor, “but I don’t think I could be here without you. And not just because you got me in.”

When Harvey didn’t say anything, Mike stole a glance at him. Harvey was staring at him with an odd expression: his brows were furrowed, his eyes had widened, and he was frowning.

“What?” Mike asked, worried. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

Harvey shook his head firmly. “No, you’re fine.” He squeezed Mike’s shoulder and gave him a courtroom smile, full of confidence and charm.

Harvey’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Mike let himself relax. No matter what happened in there, or how badly he embarrassed himself, Harvey wouldn’t let him do it alone. Harvey might tease him for it later, but they’d laugh about it over pizza, and things would go on as usual, like they always did.

“Good,” Harvey said, even though Mike hadn’t said a word. He slung an arm around Mike’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Come on, let’s go make a man outta you.”

Mike jabbed him in the ribs.

 

 

The hallway led to a large, dimly lit room, divided into sections by semi-transparent curtains. Mike could see people moving behind them, but he couldn’t make out specifics. He didn’t need to. He could hear them: soft moans and muffled curses, and the sound of leather on flesh. 

“There’s a bar at the back if you need another drink,” Harvey said softly. He was following Mike through the room, but he wasn’t guiding. He seemed content to let Mike explore. 

Mike shook his head. “I just wanna get it overwith.”

Harvey chuckled. “You’re adorable.”

Mike shot a glare over his shoulder. 

“Oh come on,” Harvey said, grinning. “Like you wouldn’t be laughing if you were in my position.”

“I hate you,” Mike said conversationally. “Just a little less than I hate ceiling spiders.”

“What the hell is a ceiling spider?”

“What it sounds like.”

Harvey huffed and gave Mike a gentle shove. “Are you going to wander around and talk about bugs all night, or are we going to do what we came here to do?”

Mike nodded and followed Harvey through a makeshift doorway between two curtains. The area was just large enough to fit a king-sized cushion, with some room left over for spectators. A pretty brunette girl was kneeling at the edge of the cushion, wearing nothing but heels and a diamond necklace. Her partner was a drop-dead gorgeous readhead who was probably in her late 40s, wearing a green Chanel sheath dress and black Louboutin heels. 

Mike scowled. It was Harvey’s fault he could spot designer clothing.

The redhead was standing at the edge of the cushion with her hand on the brunette’s shoulder. She was talking to a man who looked to be around Mike’s age. The brunette had her head bowed, but she looked relaxed, and she smiled when the readhead stroked her neck. 

Mike was about to turn and leave since there wasn’t much to see, but the man who’d been talking to the redhead suddenly nodded and took a step back. Everyone else fell silent.

“Elizabeth,” said the redhead, “Mr Cooper is interested in borrowing you for the evening. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Ms. Rice.”

“He wants to see what he’s getting first. Be a good girl and help me show him.”

Mike was instantly fascinated.

One of the men who’d been standing with the spectators handed ‘Ms. Rice’ a riding crop, which she rested on the back of Elizabeth’s neck. Elizabeth sank forward until her forehead was on the floor. 

“Good girl,” said Ms. Rice, then touched the tip of the crop to one of Elizabeth’s buttocks.

Elizabeth raised her hips and spread her knees.

Mike felt a surge of uncomfortable heat. His dick went half-hard, but he also had to resist the urge to look away. He’d seen naked girls in all sorts of interesting positions, but watching this girl on her knees, obeying commands--

“They’ve known each other awhile,” Harvey murmured from right behind Mike. “They were here last time, too.”

The hair on the back of Mike’s neck prickled uncomfortably, but he kept his gaze on Elizabeth. Ms. Rice touched her inner thigh with the riding crop, and she spread her legs wider. Mike felt like an asshole for looking. 

“You don’t get this right away,” Harvey continued softly. “It takes awhile. It’s something you have to work on.”

Mike swallowed and jerked his gaze away when Ms. Rice started stroking Elizabeth’s ass with the crop. “I think I need another drink,” he said.

“What’s wrong?”

Mike just shook his head.

Harvey frowned and put his hand on the small of Mike’s back to guide him out of the room. But instead of taking him to the bar, Harvey led him back upstairs and outside. Mike wanted to protest-- he felt like a misbehaving kid who’d just been dragged out of a store by his parents-- but the tips of his ears were burning, and the cooler air made them feel better.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mike said, tugging his fingers through his hair. He let out an embarrassed laugh. “God, I must be driving you crazy. Maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.”

Harvey turned away to signal for Ray to bring the car, then turned back to Mike and regarded him with a furrowed brow. “I pushed you too hard.”

“What? No,” Mike said, flapping his hand at Harvey. “No, it was me. I’m just-- I swear I’m not a prude. I mean, I’m fine a strip clubs and stuff. It’s just, this whole thing is--”

“Different. I know. And I should have reigned you back.”

Mike shook his head. “That’s not your job.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

They stared at each other for a second, until Mike sighed and shrugged. “You didn’t know I’d end up being a pansy.”

“Actually, I always assume that.”

Mike cracked a smile.

“You’re not a pansy,” Harvey said. Ray pulled up to the curb and opened the door for them. Harvey ushered Mike inside. 

Mike settled into the comfortingly familiar seat and let his head fall back. No matter what Harvey said, he still felt like a wuss. What they’d seen was barely softcore Cinemax, and he hadn’t been able to handle it.

The car dipped a little, and Mike turned his head to give Harvey a wry smile. Harvey cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “How about instead of beating yourself up over this, you figure out what it was that bothered you?”

“But I don’t actually know what bothered me.”

“Hence the words ‘figure it out’.”

Mike looked away and stared out the window at the passing lights. It was still early, but he felt like a dick for wasting part of Harvey’s night. Not that Harvey couldn’t find other things to do, of course, but Mike still wanted to try and make up for it. After riding in silence for a while, Mike said, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Harvey said. “Delano’s?”

Mike smiled at his own reflection in the window, then asked, before he could lose his nerve, “What scared you?”

“What?”

“Earlier, you said everyone gets the shit scared out of them once in awhile by stuff they don’t expect to be scary,” Mike said, turning away from the window. “What was yours?”

Harvey was quiet for so long that Mike wasn’t sure he’d reply. He was staring out the window, just like Mike had been, and he seemed lost in thought. Mike was about to let the question go when Harvey turned away from the window and smirked at Mike. “Christie Mattinson, junior year. We thought her parents would be gone the whole weekend, but they came back early, just in time to catch me--”

“Okay, okay!” Mike interrupted, laughing, and quickly changed the subject. But later, at Delano’s, during a lull in their conversation, he caught Harvey doing it again: staring out the window with a little crease between his brows, remembering something Mike would never be privy to.

Mike was surprised by how much that hurt.


End file.
